


I Walked with You Once Upon a Dream

by Daretodream66



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Character Death, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Sharon Carter, SHIELD Agent Sharon Carter, Steve Rogers Dies, Steve Rogers remembers, Steve was never Captain America, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28971225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daretodream66/pseuds/Daretodream66
Summary: Bucky becomes the Winter Soldier, but Steve never becomes Captain America.  Steve dies in 1940, but is reincarnated.  His paintings help Bucky remember who he is and Bucky helps Steve remember who he is.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 9
Kudos: 85





	I Walked with You Once Upon a Dream

It starts, for Bucky, in Sydney, Australia. 

He’s just trying to stay ahead of anyone that may be looking for him, from Hydra to SHIELD. He’s been all over the world and will keep moving as long as it takes to either ferret out all of the Hydra bases that he knows the location of or until someone finally captures him and either imprisons him or kills him. After escaping in Washington DC he’s been keeping one eye on moving forward and one eye over his shoulder, but on this day, in Sydney, he stops and forgets to look behind him.

Hanging in the window of a gallery is a painting that makes him freeze and grasp at his chest. Something inside hurts and he has no frame of reference for that. He does a mental inventory of his systems to see if he can give a name to this feeling. It isn’t until he’s crying, silently, always silently, that he comes to the conclusion that his heart hurts. He has no reason that he can really think of for that to be happening, but the painting is the catalyst.

It’s a smoky, almost blurry, rendition of the Brooklyn Bridge done in charcoal. It’s gorgeous and Bucky wants to touch it, but won’t go into the gallery. He can’t take the chance that someone will see him and know who he is. There are two people standing inside the gallery, talking and if Bucky tries, really hard, he can make out every third word. When the smaller of the two turns to look at the window, Bucky stops breathing. 

The man is blond, with hair falling across his forehead. Blue eyes seem to look into the distance like he can see more than everyone else. His lips are plush and the man pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. There’s a slant to his nose and Bucky knows that it’s been broken, he even feels like he knows when it happened, but the details are just out of reach. There’s a self-deprecating smile on the man’s lips when the other person says something to him. 

All Bucky can think is, ‘I know you.’ He also thinks that the man is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and that includes the picture that stopped him in the first place.

Bucky carries that with him when he leaves Australia and heads to Venice. That picture lives in him now and the blond man fills his dreams. There’s something so familiar about him and, yet, the assassin can’t place where he knows the man from. Every time he blows up a Hydra base, he takes everything they have on the Winter Soldier and now as the days pass, Bucky goes through the files to see if this man is connected to someone that he killed. His fear is that he took someone away from this man and that thought always causes the tears to come back. So far, there’s nothing in the files that connects to the man.

Small blessings. At least so far.

The base in Venice is outside the city, but Bucky does extensive research to make sure he doesn’t do damage to the city’s canals. It’s beautiful here and for a few days after he attacks the base, he wanders to appreciate the architecture. That’s when he sees another painting.

This one is a street, it could be any street, anywhere in the world, but Bucky knows that street. Again, he has no idea how he knows the street, but he’s sure that it’s in New York, Brooklyn to be exact. Like the one of the  bridge , it’s just slightly out of focus, but that has to be by design. The cars on the street are old and that piece of information is important because they are the  cars he has vague memories of from his youth. Nothing about his childhood is clear anymore; Hydra took that away from him a long time ago.

What really stops the ex-assassin in his tracks is the store front that seems to be the subject of the painting. In the window is a plank with the words, ‘sign painter wanted’ and Bucky knows, deep in his subconscious, that he remembers that sign. He remembers this scene from all those years ago. Stepping closer to the painting, a glare hits the signature and all he can read is Joseph. The last name is obscured by the glare and more than anything Bucky wants to go into this gallery and ask, but he doesn’t. Shoving his hands into his pockets he leaves with this new memory and walks away.

Turning the  corner, a block down, he almost, almost, runs into someone, but catches them by the upper arm in time. “Sorry.” It’s just a mumble and when he looks into the face, it’s the man from Australia. Instead of alarm bells sounding at running into the same person in two places, Bucky feels himself smile. It’s such an odd feeling on his face because he doesn’t smile, hasn’t smiled in so long that he doesn’t remember the last time.

The blond man looks up, with an apology on his lips, but stops and smiles instead. “Hi.” The man’s voice is deep, as deep as Bucky knew it would be.

Bucky tries to speak, but has to clear his throat because he also hasn’t spoken in a very long time. “H-hi.”

The guy smiles even wider. “This is going to sound creepy, but I don’t suppose you were in Australia recently, were you?” Bucky doesn’t say anything for too long and the man blushes, while Bucky continues to blink like an owl. “Sorry, that was...yeah...I should go.”

The blond man steps away and starts to move down the street, when Bucky finally finds his voice. “Yes!” The man turns, startled. “I was in Australia.” The man takes a tentative step back towards Bucky, so the brunet keeps talking. “I saw you in a gallery there.”

The blond nods vigorously. “Yes, I saw you looking at my Brooklyn Bridge. You from New York?”

That causes Bucky to freeze. The bridge was done by this guy and the slightly out of focus quality of the painting he just saw seems familiar, like that bridge. He takes the smaller man’s arm and pulls him back to the gallery down the street. At first the guy puts up a fuss, but once he realizes where they are going, he lets himself be pulled. “Did you do this?” Bucky points at the street scene.

“Oh...uh...yeah, that’s mine. It’s why I’m here.” He looks around and leans in to whisper. “For some reason people really like what I do, but I don’t want anyone knowing that I’m the artist. It’s easier to live a quiet life that way.”

Bucky looks at him and then back at the painting. “I like what you do too.”

The guy grins again. “You want to get a cup of coffee?”

Bucky wants to say yes, wants to know why these paintings speak to him so much and why they seem to be from a different era, but looking down at his watch, he sees that he’s got just enough time to get to the air field to catch his transport. Looking at the ground because he doesn’t want to disappoint this guy. “I wish I could.” He sees the guy’s shoulders fall. “I really wish I could, but I have to catch a flight.” Not wanting to look at something that he can’t let himself have, Bucky walks away.

The next base goes up in Berlin, or will go up once Bucky has all the  information he needs from their archives about his alter-ego. Downloading what’s in the database and then heading for the file room, he finds boxes and boxes about himself. He makes three trips from the file room to the jeep he has waiting outside. Driving back out of the city to the safehouse he’s staying at, he presses the button and sends the building and underground facility imploding in on itself. That one feels better than the rest because he was held here longer than the other bases he’s destroyed.

He spends the night going through the boxes and  flashdrive , but still finds nothing about the man that paints the pictures. For Bucky, it’s a relief and a concern. The relief is knowing, so far, that he didn’t see this guy while he was the Winter Soldier; the concern is that he can’t get this man out of his head. Something about him is familiar in a way that...it makes the ex-assassin believe that they knew each other...before, but that can’t be the case because the guy would be old, like really old.

He’s been in Berlin for weeks, ferreting out any stragglers that are members of Hydra. He doesn’t call these assassinations; Bucky calls this justice. He’s just strolling through the streets, Döner Kebab in hand, when he sees something in a window and feels the need to get closer. He nearly drops his food on the street when he sees the painting. It’s a small gallery and the painting takes up the entirety of the window. Bucky knows this place, knows it like he’s standing there 85 years ago with a little girl and a young man about his age, which would have been, 18. 

The other young man with him is blond with a slightly bent nose. In the memory, the blond looks up at him and smiles. Bucky runs to the nearest alleyway and throws up. Squatting on the ground with his back to the building wall, he puts his hands over his head, rocking and spiraling into something he doesn’t understand. The blond from his memory is the same man he’s seen in Australia and Venice. And without a shadow of a doubt, Bucky knows that the man painted what he just saw, the Ferris Wheel at Coney Island. 

Just like the other two, it’s just a hair’s  breath out of focus and Bucky gets that it’s by design. For some reason, this artist does that effect on purpose. Whatever he expects the viewer to see, for Bucky it gives the  effect of being a memory and now, now there are memories attached and somehow this artist, Joseph, is pulling them from Bucky.

He leaps to his feet and back about four feet when a hand lands on his shoulder. “Hey, I thought that was you.” Bucky comes face to face with the man that he should be weary of and yet, he still isn’t.

The ex-assassin backs away a little further. “I need to go.” He hears the man’s voice calling out, but doesn’t stop moving until he gets back to the safe house. Bucky goes through the boxes with the oldest information again. There has to be something that will help.

It isn’t until the wee hours of the morning that he finds something, it isn’t much, but it’s something. There’s the name of a living member of Bucky’s family, but it’s from 1981. She would have been 60 then. The likelihood of her being alive now is low, but maybe he can use the name to find out about the man. Pulling out the secure laptop, he brings up a search.

Rebecca Barnes-Proctor.

Bucky spends one more night in Berlin and then makes his way to London. He’s reconciled himself to the fact that he’s super-imposed the artist’s face onto some kind of memory. It’s the only logical explanation and the soldier is always logical. This time, he rents a car under the assumed name of one of the Hydra agents from Berlin. It takes a few days because anytime he thinks he’s being followed; he changes cars and identities. Hydra may have been evil incarnate, but they did teach him some skills to survive. He’d like to say that in his journey, he doesn’t think about the blond man, but it would be a lie and Bucky only lies now when he absolutely has to. Of course, considering that he’s a man without a name or country, lying seems to be happening more than he would like.

When he finally arrives in London, he finds an abandoned building on the outskirts of one of the neighborhoods that’s just about as run down as the building. Meaning, there aren’t many people around and that’s even better. He sets up his command post and starts researching the Hydra facility. It makes him almost laugh because the damn place is treated more like a gentlemen’s club than a base. Taking it out won’t be easy because of where it’s located, but he’s doing it anyway. He knows for a fact that some of the higher ups in the British Government are Hydra and he’s going to take care of that a little differently this time. 

It takes weeks to get the right information ready to expose the men and women, but using all of the skills those bastards taught him, he gets it done. He releases it himself on the internet, but also sends it to every news outlet that he can hack, which is all of them. Within days, the men and women are arrested, along with family members and employees. It’s the biggest arrest that London has ever had and they pull it off all in one day. Bucky finds himself smiling at the screen.

That night, he goes to the base, knowing that there will be foot soldiers guarding the place. Each of them  go down without any alarms ever sounding. Bucky is good at what he does. He finds the file room, plugs in a new  flashdrive , and starts going through the boxes. When he gets back to his command center, he starts going through everything he has. After the research that he did on Rebecca, his sister, he starts looking for any other references that will help him understand this blond man.

It isn’t until he starts wading through the digital information that he finds what he’s looking for. In the late 80’s his handler was changed. Something niggles at the back of his brain, like he remembers this transition although he doesn’t remember any of the others, he remembers this one. There’s a picture of his new handler in the digital files: Alexander Pierce. The man is dead now, thanks to the Avengers, but this picture is from decades ago. 

Bucky knows why he remembers this man and not any of the others.

Alexander Pierce has the same blond hair and blue eyes as the blond artist. He reads further into the file. The asset became more compliant when Pierce was brought in. The doctors had no explanation for this, but when Pierce gave the asset orders, they were followed to the letter. One of the technicians got curious and connected Pierce to a picture retrieved from the house of one Rebecca Barnes-Proctor, a picture of Bucky with the blond man.

Bucky gets up, shaking out his hands and wrists, small whimpers come out of him and tears well up in his eyes. The conclusion the doctors came to was that the asset believed Pierce to be Steven Grant Rogers, Bucky’s best friend from childhood. Bucky keeps pacing, but can’t get his heart to stop racing. Going back to the computer, he enlarges the photograph.

Steven Grant Rogers is the blond artist, but that makes no sense. It can’t be because according to the file, Steven Grant Rogers died in 1940 of complication from some illness. Bucky is flooded with memories, they come in a tidal wave and he collapses to the floor. He doesn’t wake until morning and when he does, something in his fucked-up brain seems to have carefully placed his memories where they always should have been. Sitting up on the cold floor, Bucky starts to cry.

He’s been calling himself Bucky for about a year, but until now, it didn’t have meaning. Now, he knows who that is. He is James Buchannan Barnes, son of George and Winifred, brother to Rebecca, and best friend of Steve Rogers. He remembers the heartbreak when he got the letter in bootcamp that Steve had died. He remembers being hopeless after that. He remembers knowing that he would never love anyone the way he loved that boy. He remembers a picture that he used to carry in the handle of his sidearm. He remembers his sweetheart grip and the men in his unit knowing, but not caring. 

He remembers everything.

Using the dilapidated bathroom in the building, Bucky takes a cold shower and changed his clothes. He goes out into the city and for the first time doesn’t carry himself like the asset, but like the man he once was. He needs to figure out this artist situation because the odds of the blond man looking exactly like his dead love are not high. Something is happening and Bucky needs to clear his head, so he can put the pieces of this puzzle together. 

That’s how he runs into Joseph again.

It’s outside another gallery, but the painting this time is something much more intimate. The subject of this painting is a man, obviously naked, but with a sheet covering him from just below the waist down. He’s lying on his stomach, facing towards a window where sunlight streams in to light his dark hair. There’s a soft smile on his face that’s directed at the artist. It’s filled with love and devotion and the subject of the painting is Bucky. Like the others it’s slightly out of focus, but it’s still clearly Bucky.

A hand lands on his shoulder, causing him to jump. He turns, defensive, but it melts away when he sees the artist. “Steve.” The small whisper of a word slips from his lips and the artist’s eyes get huge.

“How did you know?” He pulls Bucky to the side, away from the gallery window. “No one knows that name! How did you?” He’s talking in an angry whisper and Bucky doesn’t know how to explain any of this or even if he could.

“I’m  sssorry . I-I should go.” But the artist doesn’t release his arm, holding him firmly in place.

“You aren’t running this time. You’re explaining how you know my name and how it is that you are a subject of that painting when we hadn’t met when I painted it and why the  fuck I can’t get you out of my head.” Bucky has no answers that will appease the man and he really doesn’t want to run, for the first time ever, he wants to spend hours, maybe days, could be weeks, talking to this man.

“I don’t think you’ll believe me.” The man sighs and Bucky  asks the question that’s been bugging him. “Why are all of the paintings out of focus?”

The artist is shaking now and wipes his hands on his pant. “Because that’s how they are in my memory. Or...or my dreams or some other fucked up shit that I don’t understand.”

“Is your name really Steve?” The guy nods, but doesn’t looks up at Bucky. He shoves his hands into his pockets and continues to stare at the ground. “Why sign the paintings as Joseph?”

“Don’t know. It’s another one of those things that came to me and I can’t explain how.” Like a flash, Bucky knows where the name came from.

He huffs. “It was his father’s name.”

“Him who?” How does Bucky explain this? How does he make this guy understand?

“Steve’s father. The guy that you look like. It was his father’s name.” Steve finally looks up, furrowing his brow in confusion. “I don’t know how to explain any of this to you.” Now Steve huffs. “All I know for sure, is that you look like someone I loved a long time ago.”

“How long is a long time ago?” Bucky chuckles mirthlessly.

“Eighty years ago.” Steve bursts with laughter and looks at Bucky like he’s crazy. 

“Okay Marty McFly, we’re going to go somewhere and you’re going to tell me everything.” Bucky shakes his head and Steve glares at him.

“Trust me when I tell you, you don’t want to know everything.” Steve throws his arms around in frustration and Bucky can’t help the smile. He’s so like Bucky’s Steve, right down to his petite frame and fiery personality.

“Dude, you try to run on me again and I’ll drag you into an alley and kick your ass.” Bucky loses his shit over that and cackles with laughter. If this guy only knew.

They find a café not far from the gallery and sit at a back table, order lunch and watch each other. Bucky can’t get over how much like his Steve that this guy is. “Why do you sign your paintings with a different name?”

Steve huffs. “I told you, it allows me to have a private life, not that I have anything to hide, but a few years ago before I made a name for myself in the art world, hell before I’d even sold anything, some of my paintings were purchased by some really well-known people and suddenly my name was all over the place. It was too much to take, so I changed the signature.” The food comes and Steve sits back, looking at his plate. “I need you to tell me everything you can about the paintings and who this guy you knew was. Oh, and how the hell this was all 80 years ago.” The way he says it makes it obvious to Bucky that this guy doesn’t believe anything he’s heard.

It’s a risk, a big one, but Bucky’s got one  more base to hit before he can rest and when that happens, it would be nice to have a friend. The only issue is that this guy is so damned pretty and Bucky is going to want to be more than that. He has to stop that train of thought because this guy isn’t his Steve, this guy just looks the same. “How about this, we eat and then I’ll take you to where I’m staying and I’ll show you everything I have?”

He gets a nod from the artist and over lunch, they talk about the paintings. Once done, they head out and when they arrive at the abandoned house, Steve looks at Bucky like he’s insane. “You’re going to kill  me, aren’t you?”

Bucky snorts. “If I’d wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.”

It takes hours to explain everything and show Steve the files to prove everything he’s saying. By the time he gets to the handler, Pierce, Steve is speechless and devastated. He shows Steve the picture of his Steve from Rebecca’s house and the artist’s jaw drops. “But...but...I don’t...how is this possible?”

“Don’t know. I just know that once I figured out why you seemed so familiar all of my memories came back.” He sits down next to Steve. “Maybe you’re related to him in some way.”

“Listen, I’m not related to this guy.” Something in his face doesn’t seem convinced. “I can’t be this guy, can I?”

They sit in silence and then Steve does something that makes Bucky think there might be something to the idea that this, however impossible it seems, is his Steve. The guy starts chewing on the inside of his cheek. That was always Steve’s tell way back when, Bucky caught him in many half-truths when his love started the same action. Bucky reaches up, poking Steve’s cheek. “What are you not telling me?”

Steve jumps up, moving away from Bucky and not making eye contact. “Nothing, there’s nothing.”

Bucky stands, moving closer to the artist, and looking down into those blue eyes. “Steve, for god sakes, just tell me.”

Steve straightens to his full height of 5’7 and looks up angrily and it’s so familiar that Bucky aches with it. “Fine! The paintings are from dreams that I have! Like I’m really there, in the moment! With you! Are you happy, asshole?”

Bucky wraps his arms around the smaller man, holding him close to his chest. There’s a discreet sniffle from the blond. “What are you saying, Steve?”

He doesn’t speak for a long time and when he does, he sounds broken. “I’m  sayin that sometimes it feels like I’m living another life, someone else’s life, but not exactly someone else’s.” It's quiet, but said with such heartbreak. “My parents sent me to therapy when I was a kid because they thought there was something wrong with me.”

Bucky lays his cheek on top of Steve’s head. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”

“You’d be the first, pal.” Bucky has no idea what’s going on, and he’s got one  more base to destroy, but he knows that he wants to figure this out with Steve. For the first time in decades, he has something that might mean more than running and staying ahead of people and organizations that are looking for him.

Bucky walks Steve back to his hotel even though the artist insists that he doesn’t have to. Bucky does anyway because he wants to spend more time with the man. As they reach the building, Steve invites him up for a drink, almost like he doesn’t want to part ways yet either. They sip their drinks in Steve’s suite and when the blond dozes off, Bucky carries him to the bedroom, laying him on the bed. As he turns to go, Steve reaches out, grabbing his wrist.

He moves over on the bed and pulls Bucky down into the spot he just vacated. It’s not a good idea and Bucky knows that, but also can’t help how much he wants this. Even if it’s just for a little while, he wants to feel what he did all those decades ago. Kicking his shoes off, he lays down and before he drifts off, he feels Steve move over, resting his head on Bucky’s chest. Wrapping the smaller man into his arms, Bucky falls to sleep smiling.

Bucky wakes the next morning cocooned in warmth and it’s so familiar that in his sleep hazy mind he doesn’t connect the dots. “Buck, can  ya not go to work today?” The words are sleep slurred and Steve rubs his cheek on Bucky’s chest.

With his brain not completely awake yet, he drifts back in time to before. “Gotta go, your medicine cost money,  ya punk.”

Steve’s arms tighten around him and Bucky smiles in his half-sleep state. “I could take on a couple more commissions, pay for the medicine myself.”

“Don’t want you  doin that, Stevie. Hank said there’d be overtime this weekend.” Steve practically crawls on top of him, whining.

“Hank’s an asshole, Buck, he’s said that before and didn’t follow through.” Leaning down, Bucky places a kiss on top of Steve’s head.

The hum from his beautiful boyfriend makes Bucky’s heart sing. “Don’t pout, Stevie.”

“Not  poutin .” That’s when Bucky’s brain decides to wake up completely and realize that he remembers this conversation and it isn’t 1938. He inhales sharply and would jump from the bed, but he doesn’t want to disturb Steve. The artist lifts his head, smiling down at the brunet. Leaning in, he kisses Bucky lightly. “ Mornin handsome.” Then Steve wakes up completely too. “Holy shit, what was that?”

Bucky’s breath hitches and quiet sob comes out. “That was 1938 in Brooklyn. I worked at the docks and Steve liked to make me late.”

Steve rolls over onto his back, pulling Bucky with him and tucking the ex-assassin's head under his chin. “I’m here, Buck. I’m right here.”

Bucky tries to pull away, but Steve won’t let him go. “You’re not though. You’re not him.”

There’s a sad chuckle from Steve. “Really? Because I seem to remember you getting out of bed that morning to get ready for work and I  _ convinced _ you to be late.”

Bucky’s breath hitches again and he looks up at the blond. “Steve?”

Tears well up in Steve’s eyes and he nods. “It’s me, Bucky. I don’t know how, but I’m here.”

After breakfast, Steve follows Bucky back to the abandoned house and watches as the equipment and files get packed up. “You’re sure you can’t wait a few days until I’m done here?”

Bucky looks over and is still blown away by the fact that he sees recognition in Steve’s eyes. “I want to get this done before you get there.” Steve looks at the floor and Bucky knows he wants to argue. Going over, he takes both of Steve’s hands. “You saw the files; you know what they did to me. I have to do this.”

“I know and I want you to because those bastards deserve to pay, but...” He wraps his arms around Bucky and buries his face in the bigger man’s chest.

“You’re afraid something will happen and we’ll be separated again.” Steve nods against his chest. “Well, sweetheart, that  ain’t happenin again. We got this second chance and I’m not wasting it. You were taken away from me once, this time we’re having the life we deserved back then.”

The goodbye hurts, but in four days Steve will be in Paris too and hopefully Bucky will be done with his revenge tour and Hydra will have no strongholds in Europe anymore. Steve sends Bucky with the information for his hotel, so the upside is, Bucky will be able to take a hot shower. He also sends Bucky with enough money to buy what he needs. 

Bucky checks into Steve’s suite, but he doesn’t feel right about spending Steve’s money. Paris is one of those cities that sucks you in and before you know it, you’ve bought something you didn’t think you needed. It’s the first time that Bucky doesn’t buy clothes in a secondhand shop or steal them from someone’s clothes line. It’s also the first time that he realizes that he’s being looked at in appreciation.

He also has a warm place to go through his plan. The suite is nice, like high-end nice and Bucky spreads out all of his information and goes through it meticulously. The Hydra base is outside the city, making it easier to destroy, but it’s heavily fortified outside and in. Getting past the guards isn’t really the issue, the issue is once he gets inside, he’s got to get to the control center. He isn’t leaving that base until he has the files that he wants too, so he’s got to take care of anyone that he comes across without setting off the alarms. 

Around midnight, there’s a knock on the door. Bucky pulls his sidearm and eases through the living room and towards the door. Turning the lights off, he goes to the door, looking through the peephole. It’s a young woman, with blond hair, wearing the uniform of the people that work the desk. “Mr. Grant, I have a message for you. The gentleman made it sound urgent.”

Putting the gun behind his back, he opens the door. She smiles kindly and hands him the folded paper. “Who is the message from?”

She blushes. “Your husband, sir and he seemed insistent that I bring it up now.”

“Thank you.” She turns to leave and Bucky shuts the door, locking it and leaning against the wall. Flipping the light on, he opens the paper. There’s a number at the top and Bucky doesn’t know what it means, until he starts reading.

_ 1930 _

_ We went to the movies when I was 12 and you were 13. We snuck in because we didn’t have the money for the movie, but about halfway through, the usher caught us and we had to run. _

_ I love you _

_ Wait for me _

Bucky reads it through three times. It could just be Steve recounting memories, but Bucky doesn’t think so, this is a warning. Something happened in London and Steve is on his way. He wants Bucky to wait.

The confusing part is the ‘I love you’ because they haven’t really talked about what they are to each other now. Hell, they haven’t even figured out how Steve is here. Then it comes to him, in 1930, Steve said he loved Bucky for the first time while they were at the library. Steve was looking through an art book and was staring mesmerized by a statue. Going to his computer, Bucky does a search and finds what he’s looking for:  _ Winged Victory of Samothrace. _

He doesn’t sleep that night and puts the Hydra base on hold until he can talk to Steve. The following morning, he showers, dresses and goes to get coffee and breakfast. He doesn’t want to draw attention to himself, so he sticks to what a tourist might do. Going to the front desk, the same blond woman is there, smiling and ready to help. “What can I do for you, Mr. Grant?”

“I was wondering how I get tickets to the Louvre.” She makes a call and within a few minutes, she gives him a piece of paper with a number on it. 

“You’ll need that number. Your reservation is under that.” Bucky nods and thanks her. Heading to the door, he stops at the window and scans the street. In the reflection he can see the blond making a call, but she has her eyes on Bucky. It could be nothing, but he hasn’t survived this long by not listening to his gut and his gut is telling him that something is going down. Down the block is a van, blank, internet provider. Orange cones are set up around the back end. One of the workers is pointing at the roof of another building, then looks over at the hotel.

Yeah, he’s got a problem. It would seem if you blow up enough Hydra bases, they send people after you. Turning back, he heads for the elevator. The same blond calls after him. “Everything okay, Mr. Grant?”

He turns, grinning because this situation calls for friendly. “I forgot my itinerary for the day.” Back in the suite, he strips out of his casual clothes and the glove covering his left hand and into his uniform. He doesn’t like the uniform, but if he’s going down, he’s not going easily. He arms himself with everything he’s got and before heading to the roof, he terminates the hard drive on the computer. Looking at all the files, he sighs and heads back out. He takes the stairs to the roof access, but stops before opening the door. Once the door is open, he’ll have to do whatever he’s going to do quick. They’ll expect this.

Putting his hand on the door knob, he’s just about ready to turn it when a voice stops him. “Don’t open that door!”

He turns, pulling one of his guns, to find the blond from the desk, gun in hand. “Fuck!”

She puts her hands up, but doesn’t drop her gun. “Just listen, please. We know you’ve been blowing up Hydra bases, and we know why, and if you open that door, Hydra has about six snipers ready to kill you.”

Bucky narrows his eyes. “Who is we?”

“What’s left of SHIELD and a few Avengers.” Bucky looks up at the ceiling and can only think about Steve. “We don’t want you dead.”

“No, you just want me to work for you, to be your asset instead of theirs.” He doesn’t want this, but he may not have a choice.

“What do you want?” She sits the gun down and he knows he could shoot her, but she did stop him from dying on the roof.

“I just want to finish what I started and then disappear...with Steve.” The blond nods and Bucky sobs.

“He’s your husband, yes?” Bucky nods because it’s easier than trying to explain the complicated situation with the artist. “Where are you supposed to meet him?” Bucky looks at her suspicious. “The note, it was a code?”

“Yeah, and I need to get to the Louvre because if they know about him, they’ll use him.” He doesn’t trust, except for Steve, but he also doesn’t have a choice.

She taps an earpiece. “I’m going to need a car in the garage and I’m going to need the road cleared to the Louvre and security taken care of once we get there.” There’s a pause. “Well, sir, I’m not going to let his husband get killed because you didn’t plan for this!”

“Your superiors aren’t going to take that well.” She’s leading him back to the stairs and down.

“ Wasn’t my superiors, it was Iron Man and he’s a royal pain in the ass anyway.”

They arrive at the museum and pull into the loading zone. “I need to get to  _ Winged Victory of Samothrace.”  _ They get directions and Bucky doesn’t wait. The blond, who finally introduced herself as Sharon Carter, follows, covering his back. 

When they arrive, he doesn’t see the artist and panics that he’s already been taken, but then he hears, “Bucky!”

Turning he finds the smaller man running to him and throwing himself into Bucky’s arms. “Jesus, Stevie, I was so scared. Hydra found me.”

“They found me too.” Steve kisses him and for those seconds, everything else disappears. “I was so scared they’d get you.” Then they’re kissing again.

“I don’t want to interrupt, but we have to get you two out of here.” Steve pulls back, glassy-eyed and dazed.

“Who’s this?” Bucky turns, Sharon has her weapon concealed, but is watching their surroundings.

Sharon comes forward. “Mr. Grant, I’m Agent Carter and we have to get you two someplace safe.”

Steve looks up at Bucky. “What is going on?”

Bucky leans over, kissing Steve again because if that’s a thing they’re doing now, he’s going to take advantage. “I’ll explain while they get us out of here.” They make their way to the roof where a helicopter is waiting. When they board, Bucky turns to Sharon. “There are boxes and  flashdrives in my hotel room. You need to retrieve them.”

She yells over the noise, while shutting the door. “Already done, sir.”

_ Four Months Later _

“What painting do you have hanging in Paris?” Steve’s moving around the kitchen of the villa and Bucky is pouring them coffee.

“Oh, it was one of us.” He pulls out his phone and brings up a picture of the painting. It’s a mirror image, Bucky can see the edge of a mirror around the edge. They’re in bed, Steve leaning into Bucky’s chest, the brunet’s arms around the smaller man’s chest. “Did this happen?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, that happened.” He offers his husband the second mug and leans in for a kiss. “You think you’ll ever remember everything?”

Steve puts the pan into the oven, turning to walk into the arms of the man he loves more and more every day. “I think so, but there isn’t a manual for reincarnation, baby.”

Bucky holds Steve close. “I missed you every day, even when I couldn’t remember you, I missed you.”

“You’re the reason I became an artist. I wanted to always remember your face, so I started painting.” They just hold each other until the timer for the eggs goes off. Taking their breakfast onto the terrace, they look out at the ocean, and talk. SHIELD wanted the information that Bucky had, but gave him a pass on having to do anymore killing. They neither one wanted to go back to the States, so Tony Stark set them up in a villa that he owned, but signed over to them. The South of France is the perfect place to disappear and never have to look over your shoulder again. Two months after arriving at the villa, they were given new identities and the first thing they did was get married.

“Steve?” The artist looks over. “I love you.”

Steve gets up and comes over to sit in Bucky’s lap. “I love you too.”


End file.
